Whatever You Want
by CallMeBlind
Summary: A story written to the song 'Whatever You Want' By Vienna Teng. Lyrics at the start of each chapter. Lestrade X Clarkie, Watson and Mary Not paired And Holmes X Watson. R and R!
1. Finally Found Love

_He's a company man, your right hand, 13 years and counting. No detectable ambition, a model of efficiency, far as you can see. He knows every loophole, the art of fine print, massages the numbers 'til they fit. And every time you ask him for another vanishing act, he half-smiles as if to say: Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me. Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me._

* * *

"_How long has it been, Clarkie?" _

"_Sir?"_

"_How long have you and I been working together?"_

_Inspector Lestrade, one of Scotland Yard's finest seemed to be having a great deal of trouble remembering exactly when he'd taken the young constable under his wing. He ran a hand along his recently trimmed beard as he thought it over yet again, blue eyes resting on the stack of papers he should have been signing. It had to have been more than six years, since it had been that long since the younger man had been promoted to Constable for stopping a murderer, but it couldn't have been more that fifteen years, since Clarkie hadn't been on the force that long yet._

"_Thirteen years, sir. Since I joined the force as an officer. You had me on your team the second day I was on." _

"_Ahh! Right you are boyo. An' how long have you been stayin' after hours t' help me with papers?" _

"_Ten years, sir. Since I discovered you have been spending all night here in the office to do them." The Constable did not look up._

"_Y' know y' don't have t' be here, lad. You could be at home."_

"_With respect, Sir, I doubt I'd be doing anything more exiting at home. As you know, I live alone."_

_The younger man set his pen down on the table, leaning back in his chair for a moment. It had been a far longer shift than he'd hoped it would be, but then again what did he expected with two weeks of case reports to fill out? He could have gone home, Lestrade was right, but he didn't feel the Inspector should have to work all night on his own and besides that, it wasn't as though he had a wife to go home to. _

_Lestrade had been thinking similar thoughts as a comfortable silence filled the room. He had no wife to go home to either, and while this bothered most, he was comfortable without a woman present. They only ever seemed to be good for getting in the way, unlike most men. Usually men could be relied on. Men like John Watson for instance. He was always reliable, as long as your name was Sherlock Holmes. _

"_How long have we been goin' t' see Holmes and the Good Doctor?" Lestrade broke the silence. _

"_Err." Clarkie considered this for a moment. "I'd say about ten years, sir. For Mr. Holmes that is. The doctor began to help us around six years ago, when he moved in with Mr. Holmes."_

"_Ah, right again. And what do you think of them?"_

_Clarkie raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"_

"_Just an off question, Constable."_

"_Well, I find Mr. Holmes rather remarkable! He's able to deduct things I don't think anyone else would ever be able to from the simplest things." He continued, only briefly noting Lestrade's discomfort at the comment. "And as for the Doctor, well he certainly is an intelligent man to say the least, but I don't think my opinion carries as much weight as…"_

"_As what?" _

"_As yours." _

"_What about mine, Clarkie?"_

"_You are… Well sir you're fond of him, are you not?" Before Lestrade could answer Clarkie added "And I don't just mean you admire his medical work."_

_For a long time the Inspector just watched the Constable. What the younger man had just suggested was certainly odd, but not far from the truth. What Lestrade wished to know was how he could have known. Was it that obvious? In any case, this was a man the Inspector trusted with his life every single day. IF he couldn't admit it to this man, who could he? _

"_I am… yes. It that obvious, Clarkie?" _

"_Only for someone looking, sir." _

_The constable went back to scratching signatures on papers, trying to allow the awkward air to pass. When he realized it wouldn't, he decided it was because the conversation was not finished, and without taking his eyes off the paper he'd been writing, he continued it. _

"_Why not ask him?" _

_Lestrade dropped his pen in surprise. "I'm sorry laddy, what?"_

"_Ask him, sir." _

"_I'm afraid not, Constable." _

"_It isn't as though he's exactly 'straight laced', Sir." _

"_I'm aware." Lestrade explained, picking the pen back up. "But he's also spoken for."_

"_Is he?" Clarkie raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to Lestrade. _

"_Yeah. Holmes has 'em." _

"_Ahh." Clarkie nodded. "Should have guessed that one."_

"_Yeah…"_

_Another hour went by as the two of them signed papers and wrote reports in silence. There wasn't anything else to say o that matter at the time, and while the air was still slightly awkward, it was somewhat comfortable as well. Lestrade was pleased to find his Constable didn't shun him. In fact, he didn't seem to mind at all. Clarkie wasn't married, was he? No… He never wore a ring. Perhaps there was a reason that fine young man had never found someone to settle with? Perhaps Lestrade could test the waters. After all, he'd been fond of the Constable just as much as he had the Doctor. _

"_Clarkie?"_

"_Sir?" Again he did not look up._

"_I've meant t' thank you."_

"_For what, Sir?" _

"_For all the times I've asked you t' bail me out. Every time I've ever needed a vanishing act, or a loop-hole, or just some clever warding, you've always been there t' cover me." _

"_It's no trouble sir." Clarkie assured him. "I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything." _

"_Anything?"_

"_Yes, Sir." _

_Lestrade pushed his chair out, standing and moving to sit on the desk in front of the young man, pushing his papers aside. The Constable looked up, clearly confused. He set his pen down, resting his arms on the arms of the chair he was seated in, watching the Inspector._

"_Even if that anything was highly inappropriate for a superior officer to ask for his subordinate?" _

_The constable gave a half smile. "Whatever you want, Sir."_

"_I want you to kiss me." _

"_Wh-?" _

_The chair the constable had been sitting in slid back and his body rose before the words could even fully set in. He stared at Lestrade in disbelief. His commander was asking him to break the law, out and out, in the police head-quarters. On top of that, the Inspector assumed he was batting for the same team, which he was, but that was not the point._

"_You said anything, and that is my request."_

"_But sir! First of all that's against the law! Second, we're in the police building and it's against the law! And third, I thought you loved the DOCTOR!" _

"_I'm fond of the doctor, or I was for some time… but I've been fond of you for far longer, hence my taking you onto my team so quickly."_

"_Any here I thought I was doing a good job." _

"_You do a very good job, Constable. You're my finest, in every sense." _

"_Do you mean this, sir?" Clarkie had relaxed a little, but his eyes were on the ground._

"_Every word. You think I'd be riskin' my neck and our jobs if I didn't?" _

"_No…" _

_Another few moments passed and Lestrade began to wonder if he'd made the wrong move. Perhaps Clarkie wasn't the type he thought he was. Perhaps it was best to just get back to papers and pretend that it never happened. As he moved to do so, however, his hopes were restored. The young Constable stepped into his space bubble, taking hold of both sides of his commanding officers face and forced his lip into the other's. The Inspector was shocked for a moment, but allowed himself to relax, wrapping his arms around the Constable and kissing him back. _

_Clarkie seemed tense, obviously nervous about this situation. Lestrade could feel this, and decided to take it upon himself to fix the problem. From his sitting position on the desk, he looped his legs around the back of Clarkie's and made sure he was as close as possible before he began to move his hand up and down the younger man's back, soothing any nerves he could. After moments, their kiss was broken, and Clarkie could do little more than stare at his superior. _

"_Now was that so bad?" _

"_No… Sir." Clarkie admitted, making no effort to back away from the slightly shorter man._

"_Good. Now comes the real question, Constable Clarke." _

"_And what would that be, Sir?"_

"_How far are you going to let me go tonight?"_

"_I told you sir…" Clarkie's voice shook, if only very slightly. "I'd do anything for you…" _

"_I hope you mean that, Clarkie. I really do." _

_Quickly and skillfully, Lestrade slipped his hands out from behind Clarkie, unbuttoning his uniform's jacket and slipping it off the slender shoulders that held it. He took hold of the shirt that was reviled, locking the young Constable into another kiss as he pulled the front of his shirt open. Another article of clothing found it's way to the floor as Lestrade finished with the buttons, running his hands over the soft, untouched skin below. _

_Clarkie shuddered with every touch his Inspector lay on him, resting his arms on the shoulders of the man undressing him. By the time Lestrade was testing his skin, he'd already melted into the kiss he'd been locked into, enjoying every moment of it. He'd wanted this for far longer than he cared to admit. He felt the strong be shocking gentle hands of the Inspector run down his sides, forcing another shudder and resting on his belt, holding him there. _

_Clarkie's hands moved from the shoulders they'd been resting on, moving to the front and removing the same articles from Lestrade that had been taken from him. In moments the two were pressed against each other, chest to chest, kiss growing more passionate by the moment. Clarkie's hands tested the flesh before him, just as Lestrade's had his. It was a pleasant feeling to say the least. Neither of the men had felt that way in so long, it was slightly overwhelming. _

_After a few moments, Lestrade began to grow impatient. His hand ran along Clarkie's beltline, stopping at the buckle and working to get rid of it. When the slight clank stating it's release sounded, Clarkie jumped slightly. The button on his pants was freed as well as the zipper and in a moment, he stood before his commander in nothing more than his underwear. _

_Lestrade slipped off the desk, pushing Clarkie back slightly. He ran his hands over the waist of the garment that still covered Clarkie, as though asking permission to remove it. Clarkie pulled out of there rather heated kiss, looking straight into the Inspector's eyes. He gave a slight nod and waited. Lestrade hastily took the invitation, removing the garment and allowing it to fall where it may. Now he looked upon his Constable, in all his glory and arousal. _

"_Now that's a sight." He breathed._

"_If you say so Sir… My concern is my lack of view." _

_He moved his arms forward, playing with the belt that held Lestrade's pants and removing it swiftly. The came copy-cat motion as before lead to Lestrade being completely unclothed in a matter of moments, equally as exposed and aroused as the Constable._

"_Much better…" Clarkie murmured, trying not to stare. _

"_You can look, Boyo." Lestrade grinned. "And touch." _

_Without warning, he moved forward, looping a leg around Clarkie's and pulling forward, forcing Clarkie to fall back. He held tight, cushioning the impact for the Constable, but the fact still remained, they were on the floor, and Lestrade was laying just on top of him. This was farther than he ever thought they'd get. _

_After a moment to asses the situation, Lestrade began to run kisses along the constable's neck, straight down his torso to his hip bones. Every few kissed, the Constable would jump, but nothing was as bad as the hips. When Lestrade's mouth contacted the skin above the hips, Clarkie could not help himself. His hips bucked and his head tilted back. An extraordinary feeling to say the least. Pleased by the response, Lestrade continued, but moved his mouth back up the Constable's body, feeling that to much to soon might scare the man off. Still, the fact remained that Clarkie's little 'problem' below the waist needed to be attended to and Lestrade had no intention of allowing him to go unsatisfied. _

_His hand traced down the body of the man before him, finding their way to his hips and drawing tiny circles. The Constable bucked twice more before Lestrade's hand wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down in agonizingly slow strokes. A few whimper's escaped Clarkie as his hands gripped to Lestrade's sides. As Lestrade's strokes began to quicken, Clarkie's body unconsciously rose and fell to meet it, moans escaping his throat before he stop them. _

"_Ah. Sir… Oh lord!" he called, tossing his head back once again, trying to stay quiet incase anyone came back. "Oh my god!" _

_Lestrade seemed pleased, and only more so when the younger reached his climax. The beautiful rush of warmth that covered him was more reward than he ever expected to get. The fact remained that his lower area's still throbbed, but he could take care of that. He'd gotten what he wanted out of the night and more. As he moved to allow the Constable breathing room, he felt a warm hand on him and his attention was instantly back on Clarkie. _

"_May I assist you, Sir?" _

_Lestrade nodded lightly, positioning himself to hold himself over Clarkie. The younger was more skilled that Lestrade would have expected. His hand moved swiftly, but carefully, making sure not to cause release before the pleasure was fully enjoyed. Grunts and moans escaped the Inspector just as they had Clarkie, though no words. He threw his head back as the motion grew faster and the grip the constable had on him increased. It wasn't long after his release was at hand. _

_He slumped over next to Clarkie, wrapping his arms around him. The Constable pushed closer to his commanding officer, stealing what heat he could from the other. He was tired and prepared to sleep exactly where he was, shaking slightly from the effects of the orgasm. _

"_That was…"_

"_I know, Clarkie."_

"_Sir?"_

"_Yeah?" Lestrade's eyes were shut. _

"_What does this mean…?"_

"_That you're mine, Constable." _

"_I like the sound of that…"_

"_Come one." The Inspector opened his eyes, sitting up. "Clean up, clothes, then back to my place. You can sleep there."_

"_Yes sir. As you say." _

_And somehow, everything was right. _


	2. Lost Him

_Never a real moment together but she understands: You're an important man. Another late night. Don't know if you're coming home or when. She's alone again. But she goes on curating your domestic museum. She disappears in her loyalty. She is a dress wearing a face in the doorway, opening her arms out to you: Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me. Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you ant is fine by me._

* * *

_Marriage was suppose to be the ultimate form of bonding in a relationship. When one married another it meant they were in love, and always would be. They were suppose to vow to each other to remain in love until death do they part, so why did this feel this way? This was not love. In love there was a feeling of passion for the other, but that did not seem to be the case at all. These souls were distant at best, even if one wished to be closer to the other._

_She moved about the house, setting books on shelves and dusting pictures. She would maintain the domestic museum their hours had become, if only to entertain herself during the long hours he was away. She understood thought. He was a doctor, an important man. He was needed elsewhere, all the time. He always had somewhere else to be and of he didn't he was in the house asleep. They never did anything together, no moments by the fire, no tender loving moments at all. John and Mary Watson were the most distant married couple in Cavendish Place. _

_It troubled Mary to think that she'd allowed herself into a marriage where she next to never saw the man she loved and when she did it was only for dinner here and there. She supposed it would have been easier if she had a child to keep her company, but John had expressed a deep dislike for children. He wouldn't sleep with Mary, not even on their wedding night, though he'd never given her a reason short of being tired or to drunk. She assumed that it was due to a fear of her becoming pregnant, but still it was worrying. It was as though he was repulsed by her…_

_It was as these thoughts crossed her mind that John stepped in the front door, setting his black medical bag on the ground next to himself and hissing slightly as his right leg supported his weight. John had been injured in war in several places and that was just one of them. He ran a hand over his short blond hair, turning his attention to her as she finished dusting a portrait hanging on the wall. _

"_Pleasant evening, dear?" She asked in passing._

"_I suppose so. The normal routine. There's a dinner tonight for the returning soldiers at the Royal. Stanford invited me, would you come along?" He straightened his tie_

"_Oh course!" She seemed overjoyed. He almost never asked her to come along. "How long?"_

"_Two hours to get ready." _

"_Certainly!" _

_She wasted no time in dashing up the stairs. It took her only a few minutes to find the things she was looking for. Her best black dress and his military suit. Once it was laid out for him, she stepped into the bathroom, dressing herself properly and making sure her hair looked it's best. She was going to look fantastic for this night, even if she had to spend both of her hours doing it. When she finally did emerge from the bathroom Watson was dressed, ready, and asleep on their bed. She shook him awake offering her hand._

"_Ah. Forgive me. I've had to many patients today."_

"_No trouble, John. Let's go!"_

_He took her arm, half smiling as he did so and lead her down the stairs. It didn't take long for him to find and hail a cab and it took even less time for the two to be on their way to the Royal. John seemed exited about the night, as though he'd been waiting for it a long time. Mary guessed it would be good for him to see the people he served with while he was in the war. Perhaps it would set some of his nightmares to rest. He had them so frequently…_

_They arrived at the Royal in less than a half hour, stepping out and looking upon the building. Mary chuckled lightly at the memory of the last time she's been to the Royal, though John seemed far less amused. He had never been pleased about her tossing wine in Holmes' face and he likely never would be. He lead her inside, attempting to stop thinking about the first time The Detective and his wife had met. _

_Once they were inside, John seemed overwhelmed by the abundance of new faces and the few he knew from before. He stepped forward, looking back at Mary for only a moment before he disappeared into the crowed. Mary remained by the door, blending in with the other women that seemed to stay around. She watched John laugh and joke with the other men, hoping he was going to come back for her. When he didn't, it only served to burn her further than recent events already had. Now not only did he refuse to spend any time with her at home, he refused to spend time with her in public! Something had to be done about this._

_The rest of the night was the same. He laughed while she spoke with the other women. He never even looked up at her. It really was like he wanted nothing to do with her at all and as the night drew closer to it's end she made up her mind. She was going to confront him when they arrived home again. It would be easy to catch him when they got in the door together, or at least she thought it would be. _

_When everything was over and the people around them began to clear out, John appeared beside her. Mary was about to ask him why he'd never come back when he started to speak. Right from the first word she knew that the night was about to get worse. _

"_I'm sorry Mary. I'm not coming home with you tonight." _

"_Why not?" She crossed her arms._

"_I've been called away to see a patient at Kensington. An old book seller's hurt himself fairly badly. I'm required at the earliest convenience." _

"_Alright.." She frowned. _

"_Don't wait up." He stepped passed her, marching toward a cab and calling for it. _

_Mary took a cab home alone, as she always did. She stepped in the door, he eyes filling with tears as she thought of how little he own husband cared for her. Up the stairs to change and to seat herself on their bed, sobbing lightly. Did he even care that this hurt her? Was he even really going to see a patient? She had to find out why this kept happening, so tonight she would. She composed herself, stepping lightly back down the stairs to pull a seat out from the table. She sat by the door want waited. He was going to tell her what was going on._

_It was close to three o'clock in the morning before John stepped through the door. He seemed troubled by something, but not half as troubled as he was when their eyes met. He froze in mid-place, watching her stand from her chair. _

"_John, we need to talk."_

"_I can tell." He stood straight. "What is it?" _

"_Work, John!"_

"_Ahh, that." _

"_Yes that! You're never home and when you are the only thing you do is sleep! You pay no attention to me at home or even in public! You left me all on my own for hours tonight!" _

"_I knew it would come to this…"_

"_Come to what?! Me having to confront you for your lack of love toward your WIFE?!"_

'_To some degree." John sighed, stepping all the way inside and seating himself in their living room. "I don't know how to explain, Mary."_

"_What have you been doing?"_

_He laughed. He couldn't help it. The question in itself was funny. He wasn't even sure where to start. There were about a million ways he could tell her and yet so many reasons he could tell her nothing at all. No matter how he said this, it was betrayal and it was illegal. No matter what he did, he was cornered._

"_I can't explain." He finally admitted. "I just can't."_

"_Well now you have to. Want to know where you go! I understand if it's patients, but I don't think it is. How would a man from Kensington know you were at that party?"_

"_I see your point…" He had to admit she had him. "I've been seeing someone…" _

"_Someone else? You've been cheating?"_

"_Not in the strictest sense… I've never slept with them."_

"_Is that suppose to make me feel better?"_

"_No, not considering-"_

"_Considering what?"_

"_That I'm going to."_

_She slapped him straight across the face. She couldn't help it. The reaction was strong, but he'd just admitted to wishing to sleep with another! How was she suppose to take that when he refused to even touch her. _

"_I'm sorry Mary." He spoke quietly. "I wanted to tell you."_

"_Have you ever loved me, John?" _

"_No." Another slap._

"_Who?"_

"_I can't."_

"_Who, John!" _

"_I can't tell you!"_

"_You will tell me what woman is better for you than I am!"_

"_That's just the reason I can't tell you!"_

"_Why not!"_

"_It's not a woman, Mary!" _

_For a long time she just stared at him. A man? He was seeing a man? Was that why he'd never touch her? Was it all because he was a homosexual? That was why he never loved her. Why would he do this to her? What had she done to deserve him doing this to her?_

"_Who?" She asked again._

"_I can't tell you. I can't risk him."_

"_If I swear to you on my life that I will not tell a soul, will you tell me?"_

"_Only if you swear…"_

"_I do."_

"_Sherlock Holmes."_

_She should have known. Suddenly so much was clear to her. The notebooks he would never let her read, the late calls from Holmes and all the letters between the two. She was a beard for their love. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have seen it sooner? _

"_John, how could you?"_

"_What would you have done?! I was- I am in love with him! I've always loved him! What was I suppose to do but find so way to keep The Yard off of us? Do you know what kind of chance Lestrade's been waiting for? He could throw Holmes in jail and have me all to himself… Willingly or not!" _

"_I can't even begin to tell you how much this…"_

"_I'm sorry."_

"_You never-"_

"_Never…. I'm so sorry…"_

"_But I loved you!" _

"_I tried to… But I can't."_

"_What now?"_

"_What indeed."_

_They sat in silence for a long time. They didn't dare to look up at each other or even try to leave the room. Something had to be said or done and John decided he was going to be the one to do it. It had to say something before the tension in the room killed him. _

"_I suppose you hate me."_

"_No." She answered plainly. "I can't hate you." _

"_No?"_

"_I love you, John Watson and I always have, but apparently you are not mine…" _

"_I'm not…" _

"_Does he love you?"_

"_I would think so… But we can not be together as long as-"_

"_As I'm here. I gathered…" _

"_I love him, Mary… Just as much as you love me…" _

"_Well then. I suppose there really only is one place we can go from here."_

"_I'll get my things." He rose from his chair, only to have her hand on his. He turned to face her, clearly confused. She just smiled at him. _

"_Stay. I will remain here as your cover."_

"_You would do that for me?"_

"_What ever you want, John. As long as you're happy." She opened her arms and without another question John wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "It's fine by me."_

_In truth it wasn't. The pain in her chest burned. She wanted to hate him, to rat both Holmes and John out, but she could never do that. She could never watch him go through that sort of punishment. It killed her to know that every time he left Holmes would be the one to love him, to hold him. It was all she'd ever wanted and it went to another. Worst of all, she was going to let it happen. _

_John stepped away, turning toward the door. "Mary… You are an angel."_

"_And you a devil, let me assure you." She moved for the stairs. "Go to him, John. Tell him and what ever you do, never stop loving him."_

"_I never will." He disappeared threw the door. _

_She stepped into their cold, unwelcoming room for the third time that night, glancing around at all the things that belonged to him. Every one of them held some kind of lie, so fabrication that had been meant to keep her in the dark. She'd never known John Watson at all and as this realization sank in, her face found it's way to her pillow. She cried herself to sleep that night and when she woke, John was still absent._

_He would always be absent now. _


End file.
